The back of Ozuna's Inn was a sanctuary of polished stone and dark mahogany, far removed from the raucous laughter of the main taproom.
Arthur followed Airgid up a set of private, narrow stairs that groaned softly under the veteran's immense weight. Every step felt heavy with anticipation.
Airgid stopped before a heavy door at the end of the hallway. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the wood.
The fearsome swordsman, who could likely cleave a mountain in two, looked smaller here. He knocked gently—a rhythmic, paternal cadence.
"Alfia? Meteria? I've brought someone to check if they can cure you... can we come in?"
A thick silence followed, stretching for a full minute. Arthur could hear the faint, labored breathing of those inside. Finally, a voice—weak but surprisingly firm—drifted through the wood.
"Come in..."
Airgid pushed the door open with a tenderness that spoke of a thousand nights spent in prayer. Arthur stepped into the room, and his breath hitched.
Sitting on two adjacent beds were the twins. Despite the pallor of sickness, they were breathtaking.
The first, Alfia, sat with her back straight, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders like a frozen waterfall.
Her eyes were a striking pair of heterochromia: light green in the right, dark grey in the left. Even at eighteen, she possessed a mature, stoic grace that felt like a shield.
Beside her was Meteria. While her features mirrored her sister's, her right eye was light blue and her left dark green.
Where Alfia was a fortress of stone, Meteria was a flickering candle—soft, expressive, and currently looking at Arthur with wide, curious eyes.
Arthur felt a subtle nudge from Airgid. The bartender was looking at him with desperate expectation. Arthur cleared his throat and stepped forward, his expression softening into one of professional calm.
"Good afternoon, Miss Alfia, Miss Meteria," Arthur said, bowing slightly. "My name is Arthur. I've come at your father's request to see if I can find the root of the pain you've been carrying. I'm not a doctor or a priest, but I may have a method they've overlooked."
Alfia's light green eye narrowed. She looked at Arthur's basic gear and his youthful face. "And how exactly are you supposed to do that?" she asked, her voice rasping as she broke into a dry cough.
"You aren't a servant of the Goddess, nor a scholar from the Academy. What makes you think you're qualified cough... to succeed where the world's 'best' have failed?"
"Sister!" Meteria pouted, her voice thin but scolding. "Don't be rude. Sir Arthur came all this way just to help us. Even if the chances are non-existent... we have to hope."
Alfia looked away, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. She wasn't being cruel; she was being protective. She had seen too many "miracle workers" come and go, leaving her sister in more tears than when they arrived.
Arthur didn't take offense. He simply nodded. "I think you're suffering from Mana Poisoning and Elemental Charge." he stated clearly. The room went dead quiet.
"I know your situation looks grim. I've faced hardships where the world told me to give up too. But I've learned that the more you persist, the more the world is forced to move for you."
As he spoke, he channeled a sliver of the "Dignity" stat. A warm, steady aura seemed to radiate from him.
Alfia's face flushed pink—a reaction to the sudden, grounding presence he projected. Meteria, meanwhile, turned a shade of crimson that rivaled a ripe tomato, her gaze dropping to her lap.
Airgid chuckled softly, his single eye moistening. "Arthur has a hunch, girls. And so far, his hunches have been more accurate than a mage's scroll."
Arthur turned to Alfia. "Your symptoms involve coughing blood and agonizing pain during simple movements. That is because you were born with an active mana conduit. Your body is a vessel for mana, but because it has no core to hold it, the energy is leaking out, scraping against your internal organs like glass shards. It's invisible to mages because it drains as fast as it generates."
He then looked at Meteria. "And you... you feel detached when near fire or water. That's because your body is absorbing the ambient elements. Without training, that energy backfires, clashing with your natural biology. Only elves or ancient elementals usually deal with this."
The three of them stared at him. For the first time in eighteen years, someone had described their pain perfectly, without a single diagnostic spell.
"The reason others fail," Arthur continued, "is because their mana is 'impure'—tinted by their own training and classes. If they tried to help you, their energy would clash with yours. But I am currently in the process of unlocking my own core. My mana is pure, untainted by the world. I can act as the bridge."
Meteria didn't wait for another word. She let out a sob—a mixture of relief and hope—and lunged from her bed.
Arthur caught her instinctively, her small, trembling frame light as a feather. He embraced her gently, patting her back as she cried into his shoulder.
Alfia sat frozen, a single tear escaping her left eye, showing a genuine smile that cracked her stoic facade.
After calming the girls, Arthur descended to the kitchen with Airgid. He knew that before he could attempt the mana synchronization, the girls needed their physical bodies to be at peak condition.
He took the Medium-Grade Health Potion he received from Anna and the leftover ingredients from the King Rabbit.
Under Ciel's guidance, he began a complex preparation method. He wasn't just cooking; he was distilling energy.
As he tossed the rabbit meat with wild mountain herbs and infused it with the diluted potion, the air in the kitchen began to shimmer with a golden hue.
[A new skill has been opened: Intermediate Cooking]
[Item Created: Exquisite Lunch Box: Royal Rabbit]
Rating: Unique
Effect: Increase Regeneration by 20% and Agility/Stamina permanently by 10 points. Luck +5%.
Description: A dish that surpasses the royal chefs of the continent.
Arthur looked at the notifications with a smirk. "Unique grade? That'll do more than just fill their stomachs."
He turned to Airgid, handing him the remaining portions. "Airgid, I need you to replicate this for the girls using the leftover meat. They need this nourishment to survive the next two hours. It will keep their vitals stable while I work on my own core first."
Airgid looked at the lunch box with awe. He could feel the potency radiating from it. "I'll follow your instructions to the letter, Arthur. Please... be safe."
Arthur retreated to a small, quiet room Airgid had prepared for him. He sat cross-legged on the floor, the Unique Royal Rabbit dish in his lap.
To unlock his mana core, he needed to achieve a state of perfect internal harmony—the 'Enlightenment' that Morpheus had deemed nearly certain for him.
The air around the Healing Fountain of Patrian was usually filled with the idle chatter of low-level players.
It was a place of rest, where the weary could sit by the shimmering blue waters to recover Health and Stamina without spending a single copper at an inn.
Arthur arrived at a sprint. He didn't look like a man seeking rest; he looked like a man preparing for a suicide mission.
Ciel, monitor my vitals. If my mana threshold spikes, guide the flow toward the heart center.
The quest [Path of Enlightenment] began to glow in his menu. Arthur focused on the sensation of the world around him—the buzz of the tavern, the wind against the shutters, the heartbeat of the city. He drew it all inward, compressing it into a single point of light in his chest.
"Now," Arthur whispered. "Let's see what a future King is made of."